


cancellations and revelations

by electronic_elevator



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Diapers, Fluff, Incontinence, Other, Secrets, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28684734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electronic_elevator/pseuds/electronic_elevator
Summary: Your early morning class was cancelled, so you head back to your apartment. Damien was not expecting you home so soon. // Written September 2020.
Relationships: Damien | The Mayor/Y/N | The District Attorney (Who Killed Markiplier?)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	cancellations and revelations

**Author's Note:**

> We here at electronic_elevator ignore historical accuracy and occasionally plausibility in the name of content. (To pass along the results of the so-called research I did bother to do, the most common nightwear for men in this era (190X) was probably an ankle-length nightshirt/nightgown, but pajamas were probably becoming a thing then too. But, y’know. Join me in completely ignoring that.) 
> 
> Oh! Yeah! I’ve been on posting hiatus. Not exactly writing hiatus. This was mostly written in September 2020. More fics soon, probably, maybe.

After successfully waking up early and persevering through the trek across campus in the crisp morning air, you found a closed door to a darkened classroom, and a sign at nose-height explaining the professor was out, and class would not be held. 

Well. At least the sign was there. The gift of a few hours’ free time smoothed over the mild irritation you felt about the unnecessary wake-up. As it was still early, and you didn’t have another on-campus obligation until the afternoon, you decided to go back to the apartment. You planned to use the time on other work, but would prefer to do so in the quiet of your own spaces.

* * *

After letting yourself back into the house, you walked through the kitchen. Damien had evidently woken up during your absence.

“Hi, Damien—“ you'd begun, intending to mention that your class had been cancelled to explain your presence, but the words died in your throat. Damien wasn’t exactly decent, and while normally you’d simply apologize and step back out, the realization that you hadn’t caught him in his underwear but instead in a _diaper_ had you a bit stunned.

Damien startled, whirling around to face you, dropping a mug of coffee with a clatter. It sloshed most of the coffee out before settling in the upright position. You almost couldn’t help but stare, and as a result noticed the already-yellowed front of the diaper deepening in color as wetness slowly creeped further up the fabric under the clear plastic pants. 

_Oh,_ Damien had woken up quickly — the spilled coffee was no longer needed. The startle didn’t help, but he’d started peeing before you’d walked in; it was an altogether familiar feeling that hadn’t even given him pause as he’d poured the coffee, but he couldn’t stop — and of course not, but he still tried, clenching muscles that didn’t work right in the hopes that he could pull it together just this once. The sensation of pee trickling out of him, re-warming his overnight diaper, _in front of you,_ lit his face aflame. The gears of logical thought ground to a halt. He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless as to invest this much trust in the routine of the apartment. No one should’ve been home. “I—I didn’t expect…” he began, slightly breathless with fear.

After an extremely tense few seconds, you had recovered from your shock enough to realize you were being insensitive. You looked away and started to back out of the room as you stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— Ah, I’ll just—“

Damien had finished wetting, but somehow didn’t feel much better about the situation. He was all too aware of the sopping fabric against his skin and how heavy the diaper had grown. He pulled down the hem of the shirt he’d slept in in an attempt to cover himself, but the diaper had sagged low enough between his legs that it didn’t quite work. As embarrassed as he was, he couldn’t let you leave without at least explaining himself, and admittedly he needed some confirmation you were alright with it in return — it had been in childhood, but he’d lost a friend over this before. “Wait, please, let me explain,” he called after you. 

You stopped, looking back to him with eyes carefully trained on his face this time. You wanted to be respectful… it was clearly a medical issue, and clearly one he’d wanted to keep private. You felt a little bad even though you hadn’t intruded on purpose. Oddly enough, you felt yourself blushing lightly. 

Feeling a little ridiculous, Damien started rambling an unrehearsed explanation. “Ah, I— er, I need to wear these; I’m, um, I’m incontinent,” he admitted. “I promise I won’t come downstairs like this again, I-I knew — or I suppose I _thought_ — no one would be home and I was hungry and thought I’d eat before I got… changed. They don’t, um—” and Damien realized that you did not need to know that, since his night diapers needed to be thick enough that he didn’t leak in his bed, they didn’t fit under his pants subtly or comfortably, so he would’ve had to get completely changed and dressed for the day before he could make his breakfast. He cut himself off. In a mumble, he concluded, “…I’m so sorry you had to see this…”

“It’s okay, Damien, really,” you insisted. You’d both ended up looking off to opposite corners of the room as he had talked. You knew your awkward posture suggested otherwise, but the part that had you flustered was the unexpectedness of it all and your lack of experience with such a thing, not Damien’s condition itself. You continued, hoping to make it clear you were telling the truth: “You should be able to be comfortable here… It would be a little ridiculous to expect you to bend over backwards to hide something you can’t help in your own apartment.” 

Damien was relieved to hear this — it was the confirmation he’d sought — but still felt more like hiding away for the rest of the day. If either of you had more you wanted to say, it was going to have to wait. “…Thank you, Y/N… I, um, I should— I should go clean up, though.” So much for breakfast first, but Damien simply couldn’t stay out here like this when someone else was home. 

“Oh! Of course. Uh, I’ll— I’ll talk to you later, Damien,” you concluded, nodding to yourself, and then absconded from the room so Damien could leave at his own pace.

* * *

* * *

Weeks later, the late-night radio that had been serving as a background soundtrack to you and Mark’s homework session had gradually drawn your attention away with a collection of fictional short stories. The radio host announced that, after a short break, a longer and more dramatic story would be told, and the description had you and Mark looking at each other with excitement. 

“Where’s Damien? He’d like this one, too,” Mark said, and you nodded; you’d been thinking the same thing. 

“He’s been upstairs. Not sure why.” You stood and moved to the base of the stairs before continuing, “Hey, Damien? Do you want to come join us? We’re listening to the radio and an interesting story is coming on soon.” 

Damien, upstairs in his room, had also been doing work — the type requiring more concentration than he would’ve given if he’d been downstairs with his friends. He’d successfully finished it just a bit ago and, tired from the mental exertion, had been getting ready to go to sleep early… but spending some time with friends did sound appealing, and would indeed be a nice way to relax. The problem was that he’d already changed into his sleep clothes, and that included his night diaper. 

“Let’s make hot chocolate,” Mark suggested, standing as well and meandering over to you to stretch his legs. “We’ve got a bit of time before it starts.” 

“We’re gonna make hot chocolate!” You called up the stairs again. 

Damien deliberated. He wanted to hang out with his friends, and hot chocolate only sweetened the deal… literally. You knew, and of course Mark had known for years, so he certainly _could_ go down like this, even though he already felt his face growing hot as he considered it. But he definitely wanted to join you. 

You were murmuring to Mark, wondering if one of you should go check on him, when he finally answered. “Alright! I’ll be down in a few — please make me some?”

“Of course!” you replied. Then, you and Mark headed to the kitchen, and Damien fretted over how he should proceed. 

He didn’t want to go through the hassle of changing back into day clothes; he spent a bit of time digging through the drawers for something he could wear over his diaper. While he _definitely_ had at least one pair of very loose pants specifically for this purpose, they didn’t turn up anywhere. The thought that it might be cold downstairs gave him inspiration. Damien grabbed a blanket off his bed, wrapping it around his shoulders and holding it closed around him by the corners. He could be mostly-covered as well as warm and cozy; it was quite the nice solution.

* * *

Damien got to the living room just before you and Mark did. You caught up to him before he sat down, holding out a mug. “Here’s yours, Damien.” 

“Oh,” he said, his tone pleasant but privately realizing he’d immediately have to reveal himself — the way he was holding the blanket, there was no way to free an arm without revealing his diaper. Flushing again, he just reached for the mug, allowing one side of the blanket to come open in the process and hoping for the best. 

You saw him begin to blush before you realized why, and couldn’t help but give a small, surprised “oh!” in return once you did. Still, you simply handed off the mug, determined to keep your composure better than last time. 

“Thank you,” Damien replied, a bit shyly. He then sat in the chair, gathering the blanket back around himself. It was indeed very cozy, and he found himself quite happy he’d come down. 

You gave a small smile, legitimately pleased that Damien felt comfortable enough around you for this. You settled beside Mark on the couch with your own mug. While Damien took the first sip of his hot chocolate, Mark looked very pointedly from you to Damien then back again, a clear question somewhere between his eyes and eyebrows. He’d not found out about the other day, but he didn’t need to. You certainly weren’t going to make it a _discussion._ The whole point was to be _casual_ about it— and if you were, you were pretty sure Mark would be, although perhaps he would’ve been either way. 

Damien hadn’t caught the look, but he could almost feel the weighted quiet in the room… luckily, before it could get truly awkward, you spoke up again. 

“You’ve got the right idea with a blanket. It’s a cozy kind of night,” you said. You set your mug down so you could claim one of the blankets kept in the common area for yourself. 

Damien smiled. “Indeed. The hot chocolate is good, by the way; thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Mark reached towards you before you could sit down. “Throw me one?” 

So, you scooped up two before returning to the couch and passing Mark his. 

The radio host gave a reminder that the story would begin in just a few minutes, so the three of you settled into your blankets with your cocoa mugs and prepared to listen.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments dearly appreciated.


End file.
